The Welcome
by JayLaw
Summary: Lou and a welcome basket meet an old friend.
1. Chapter 1

I guess all the typical disclaimers would be in order... Except I don't know any of them. So, this is my writing from my imagination, and I am borrowing the characters. And a friend has a cameo.

That works.

**The Welcome**

By JayLaw

She knocked on the door of the little house with more than a bit of trepidation. Myrtle, the nice elderly lady that she had met at the general store earlier in the week was not expecting her, but the diminutive figure on the porch had wanted to be welcoming and neighborly. She fidgeted with the welcome basket in her hands while looking about her. Knocking once again, she stepped down off the little porch and turned to survey the leaning fence that haphazardly enclosed the hard dirt that tried to be a front yard. Outcroppings of rocks and scattered tufts of weeds completed the ramshackle look of the property.  
A deep gravelly voice behind her startled her out of her perusal.

"Yeah," it growled belligerently.

She turned to the open door, then blushed mightily, eye level to a pair of long john clad legs, a gun belt and a sizable bulge beneath it. An ivory-handled, silver plated gun rested in the holster, and in the split second it took her to register that fact, her eyes shot up to the face of the man at the door. 'It can't be,' she prayed to herself.

His face was scruffy with a couple of days hair growth on it, and long brown hair framed it, but it was the eyes that made her breath catch. Despite their bloodshot appearance, she would have known those eyes anywhere. Those eyes that had watched her from across a bunkhouse lifetimes ago. Eyes that had squinted in the sun on long rides next to her. Those eyes that had both teased and tormented her with their endless threats and promises. Eyes that had harbored so much pain, and yet crinkled up in laughter with such ease. Those light brown eyes that seemed steely and hard when gunning down blood-thirsty outlaws yet chocolaty brown and deep when he laughed or looked at her with desire in the moonlight by a fire.

"Jimmy," she whispered, her heart pounding, eyes wide.

She willed her hands to stop shaking on the handle of the basket.

He glared around at the scenery.

She wasn't even sure he saw her. Would he recognize her? Would he remember? She steeled her nerves and squared her shoulders. Stepping back onto the porch, she held out her hand in greeting.

He was scratching his backside and yawning. Out of habit, he perused her body first. His sleepy eyes raked up and down her form appreciatively. Dark brown skirt, white puffy blouse, classy but not flashy or frilly. Wavy brown hair looked like it went halfway down her back.  
Her heart fell. He didn't know her. Of course he wouldn't remember. This was Wild Bill Hickok, she chided herself. Not Jimmy. Not … her Jimmy.

She hadn't written anyone. She hadn't kept in touch by any means. She knew she couldn't expect much of a welcome. From anybody. She left and spent all her energy trying to keep Kid happy. He had known their departure would be heartbreaking for the people they both considered family. His insistence that it was the right thing to do filled her with guilt for not wanting to follow her husband. So she played the dutiful wife and went along with him. For seven years, she did.

She lowered her eyes to the ground, embarrassed by her automatic expectations. Embarrassed that even after all these years, there was still some tiny seed of hope, eager to plant itself in the heart she thought had been hardened by so many years of neglect and disappointment. She didn't know whether to lower her hand, or to leave it there in case he decided to shake it.  
He raised an eyebrow in appreciation. This just might be his lucky day, he thought, as one side of his mouth curled up in a humorless smile. Or hers, he smirked to himself. He decided to let this little piece ofcake have a big piece of Wild Bill.

He finally raised his eyes to her face and she met his gaze, stifling her chagrin. His smirk widened into a grin, taking in the beauty before him.

The big brown eyes, the pert little nose, the soft pouty lips. Oh, he was going to have a - Wait. Why did those eyes snag at something inside him? Why did he suddenly expect those lips to softly put him in his place when he was acting out or share her deepest secrets when things were quiet? What was this feeling of guilt and shame welling up inside him suddenly? Who the hell-?

For a moment, so quick she thought she imagined it, she saw him as he was over seven years ago. She saw a flash of life, of interest. That flash flooded her whole being with images of his boyish blush and wry smile from her kiss on his cheek at dinner. Her blue dress and his warm, firm hand around her waist as they clumsily and joyfully waltzed together, heedless of the world around them. For just a moment.

Something moved inside him. Deep inside him. Something that he'd hidden away seven years ago. A sound. One he had held on to as if his life depended on it. For seven long years. It started fighting, clawing, and kicking to escape. It wanted out of the special place he had kept it. The place he had buried it under years of drinking and women. It wanted to be reunited with its owner. It bubbled inside, boiling over until he couldn't keep its lid on anymore.

It scratched its way out.

"Lou," he rasped her name, his eyes wide in disbelief.

She gasped. Her heart skipped, again trying to allow hope in. He remembered!

Then he was gone.

It wasn't Jimmy anymore.

This was pure Wild Bill.

He glared at her.

His hands fisted into balls until she lowered her outstretched hand. He didn't want to know if it was as soft as he remembered.

She's Kid's. His brother's. Or the man he once thought of as a brother.

She was only supposed to be in his dreams. The dreams he tried to drink away every day and night. That was where he had left her deep brown eyes that could see right through him. That was where he had abandoned her dark hair that glowed copper in the firelight. That was where her delicately light touches that inflamed his skin and blood had been banished to.

Where the hell had she been all these years? Why had she never written or contacted anyone?

His eyes narrowed. What the hell was she doing here? To laugh? To gloat on what the mighty "Wild Bill" Hickok had become? Oh, he'd show her how 'Wild' he could get.

But even in his angry haze, the little voice inside him that he had been drinking away for years told him that was not true. He had no cause to be angry at her. For anything. Damned little voice.

He cleared his throat and looked past her, over her shoulder.

"Lou," he growled.

She closed her eyes as his voice washed over her. They flew open as she realized what she was doing.

She raised her chin slightly, and responded soft and low, "Jimmy."

He raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"You're...back."

She nodded.

"What are you doin' here"

She shrugged, "I live," she nodded her head in the general direction of her house, "not too far. I was bring a welcome basket for-"

"Where's Kid? Last I heard, you and him were down South-"

"Kid... Kid and me..." she closed her eyes in sudden weariness and sighed. "Kid ain't here."

She swallowed hard. There. It was out. Now let him make what he wanted of it. She was damaged goods. A used woman. Not like it changed anything in her life whether he knew or not. She opened her eyes and met his stare.

"I couldn't stay. I … I needed..." she gestured at the vast expanse of rolling hills and undulating landscape, "this." She thought for a few moments as he gazed intently at her.

"I left. He didn't." She shrugged. She didn't want to share anymore of the past seven years, and she was sure he didn't want to hear it. Did he even care?

He wanted to berate his heart for leaping for joy at her words. The embodiment of everything that he once loved stood in front of him in a tiny, big-eyed package. In a skirt. Without her husband. His body reacted strongly to these truths. He hated himself for it. He growled and glared at her again.

His little voice whispered, "Not her fault." He took a deep breath and let it out impatiently.

He smirked, "And now you're on my porch." He glanced down at her arms and raised an eyebrow, "With a basket."

He turned abruptly and stalked into the house, leaving the door open. She followed behind him, bumping into his chest when he abruptly stopped and turned to her.

" Didn't think I'd ever see you again," he rumbled.

She gaped at him in shock. She never thought she'd ever hear words like that fall from his lips.  
He cursed himself. He didn't mean to say that. He didn't mean to say anything. Where the hell did that come from? What the hell was wrong with him? He never would have said anything like that to anyone in his life. What the hell was she doing to him? He turned on his heel and stalked back into the house with a snarl.

She heard him rummaging around, glass bottles being knocked over in his search. She hesitantly stepped inside, looking around. He loomed over her suddenly, his bare chest, chiseled and well-formed, directly in front of her, almost on top of her, his hand on the open door.

She gasped, flinched and took a step back. His arm snaked around her tiny waist and lifted her up, pulling her up against his bare chest. She closed her eyes and turned her head, breathing in his scent, whiskey, leather and fresh chopped wood.

She opened her eyes and met his scowling gaze with her wide eyes. He stepped back,turned and closed the door behind him as he slowly released her from his grip.  
He just wanted to close the door. Lou almost laughed out loud at her own imagination and foolishness. Of course he wanted to close the door. It was getting into the chilly part of the day.  
She slid down his body, flushed with embarrassment. She felt every inch of his hardness through her skirt as she went. Before she could stop herself, she breathed him in deep, her eyelids fluttering closed over her rolling eyes. His heat penetrated every layer she wore. God, he felt good. Her eyes shot open, realizing she had moaned that thought under her breath. She quickly glanced at his eyes and knew he had heard. She let out a shuddering breath.

His anger was almost palpable. She stepped back, unsure of what to expect. She heard a click behind his back. Realizing he had just locked the door, her trepidation turned to panic as he towered over her. His eyes raked over her again with a careless, sinister glint, causing her skin to burn with helpless mortification. She was still a married woman, no matter what society's opinion was. She closed her eyes, begging her body to cool down, to not respond so acutely to his nearness and his shameful treatment of her.

He was gone as quickly as he appeared, and she almost lost her balance, not having him to lean on.

She sighed and shook her head. She was flustered and confused and needed to get a grip on herself.

She looked around and saw the main room of the house, with what looked like a small bedroom off of the main room. She was next to a little kitchen area with a counter, a cast iron stove and a sink with a pump built-in. The rest of the room had a table with chairs, and a long sofa against the wall. Her eyes found Jimmy sitting on one side of the sofa with a bottle of an amber liquid in one hand and two glasses in the other. He tilted his head at her raising an eyebrow and the glasses.

Lou put the welcome basket on the table. She noted and admired the crisp condition of the floral patterned sofa, and sat on the cushion furthest from Jimmy. She took the proffered glass with a trembling hand. She didn't want to be rude after all, she counseled herself.

Jimmy sloshed some of the whiskey into her glass, and filled his own up. Before she could raise her glass in response to his, he had downed his drink and refilled his vessel. The comforting burn of the whiskey trail down his throat soothed his raw nerves and muffled his tiny, logical voice that was trying to break down his hard shell he had worked so hard to build up around his heart.

He looked at Lou. She hadn't touched her drink and was looking around like she was lost. Jimmy scoffed inwardly as he tossed back his second drink.

'She found her way to Kid's safe arms once,' he thought jealously, 'she'll do it again.' The thought of Kid made the ever-present, slow burning fire inside him flare up once again in his gullet.  
He filled up his glass, threw the drink back again, then glared at Lou as it burned its way towards the conflagration inside him. The magical amber liquid, usually so potent, wasn't numbing that hollow ache as it had in the past. The insatiable need he had been trying to drown for seven years just wouldn't go away this time.

He leaned across the couch and tapped Lou's glass with his own. She looked at his stubble covered face, and glaring eyes, and felt his challenge. She shouldn't, she knew, but she did. She swallowed the whiskey in one gulp, her mind quickly flashing to the saloon that Kid's brother, Jed, had taken all the 'boys', with the easy women and flowing drinks. Then she choked. Her eyes watered, and she coughed. She wondered if she would be able to breathe again. Jimmy let out a humorless chuckle, and reached over, pounding her on the back with an open hand. Eyes watering, she returned Jimmy's glare. His mouth had a smile, but no emotion was in the expression. She shook her head, gasping for breath as he leaned over and refilled her glass. Lou held on to it while her coughing finally subsided. She felt the fire coursing its way down to her stomach. Breathing deeply, thankful she had survived the experience, she put her glass down on the floor beside the sofa. She wasn't going to do this with him. She wasn't going to play this game.

With a wheezing breath out, she glanced around the room again, keeping Jimmy in her sights at the corner of her eye. She didn't know this person. She didn't know this man who had shed or maybe just buried the caring, thoughtful and considerate friend of her past. This man was ... darker. There was more pain there, or maybe it was just closer to the surface.

She glanced at him again, slightly turning her head. He was staring at her, shamelessly. Everywhere he looked burned as though he was touching her with his warm fingers. She looked down quickly, increasingly alarmed at her body's reaction, a response she thought had long been purged from her existence. She had never felt like that when Kid looked at her. The emotional distance between her and Kid had grown imperceptibly at first. It had grown with every task he took over 'That a woman shouldn't do,' with every meal he expected on the table, with every dress, shawl or other beautiful accessory he showered her with, to, "Help her feel more pretty." It wasn't that she didn't like the gifts. It was that they didn't seem focused on her and her interests and goals in life.

The biggest betrayal of all came from the decisions he made without consulting her like the partner she knew she should have been. Where they would live, how they would make ends meet. Whether he should join and fight for the South in the war. He treated her like an accessory for his life.

She started to feel like a fraction of who she was while riding with the Pony Express, while working, sleeping, and fighting alongside her Express brothers. Sitting on this couch in Jimmy's humble home, she realized she hated Kid for for this feeling of inadequacy.

At first, her disguise had been for protection and survival. It grew to mean independence and freedom for a tiny girl who knew life couldn't or wouldn't offer much to a woman, any woman without a man by her side. Kid struggled constantly, in those days, to comprehend her need, want, and desire to be 'one of the boys'. His inability to see her true spirit was a constant challenge, a battle that sapped her patience and seemed to always have them butting heads.

Jimmy never seemed to have that problem. She was always 'one of the boys' to him. Even after he found out she wasn't. He had always included her in whatever was happening, and stuck up for her abilities when certain others would and did leave her behind. Kid had always hated him for that, she found out later. And he made sure she knew it.

Yes, Jimmy always treated her like one of them, but, he knew how to make her feel like woman, too. A desired woman. "You're the best lookin' boy I ever seen," "When it comes to women, my hands just got a mind of their own," dancing in the street to a lone trumpeter in the blue dress he bought for her, an earth-shattering yet brief kiss by the fire under the moonlight. Yes, Jimmy knew exactly how to make her feel like a woman.

The insistent warmth that had taken up residence in her core since he had opened the door started blooming hotter, pushing throughout her body, into all her limbs. If she couldn't get it under control, she knew she'd be lost.

* * *

Please review.

This is my first published piece. I will get the 2nd half out as soon as possible!

Thank you for your time!


	2. Chapter 2

Jimmy couldn't stop staring at her. Where had she gone? This timid and shy creature wasn't Lou. Not the Lou whose eyes shot fire and brimstone when crossed. Not the Lou who held her own and better in gunfight after gunfight. Not the Lou who criss-crossed this country on horseback, solo, delivering the Express pouch. He glared at her. What the hell had happened to her?

He downed his drink again. Jimmy took his time perusing her form. She still had the rich brown hair, now falling to the middle of her back in waves. Her face was smooth and sun-kissed to a light tan. Her neck, still so graceful and long. He longed to press his lips against it. Lips... God, why her? Why now?

His body, clad in his long john bottoms, hardened even further. His stomach clenched with a hunger food couldn't touch, stoking the fire in his loins. He had to put it out, to snuff the desire to reach out to her, touch her, pull her to him, to banish her lifelessness and his emptiness.

Damnit, Hickok, he berated himself, she's not even ten minutes back in your life and you already want to be the damn hero again. He glared at her harder. Her hero.  
'What if she needs you as much as you need her?' His whole being responded to the thought. Damned stupid tiny voice. The fire inside him was not listening to reason. He couldn't remember his reasons anymore.

He looked at his glass filled with his ... sixth? drink, then at the half filled bottle.

He stood up, noticing her flinch again, just like she had in the doorway. Her tiny movement penetrated his angry and slightly inebriated haze. What the hell? Was it from Wicks still, or something more recent? He sighed and took his glass and the bottle to the kitchen and put them on the counter next to the sink. He slowly walked to her side of the sofa, and crouched next to her. She flinched again and seemed to curl up into herself, even though she had just slightly leaned back away from him and closed one eye, before she caught herself and straightened out with her chin up. Watching her carefully, he stood up with measured and deliberate movements, and showed her the forgotten whiskey glass that was now in his hand. She let go of the breath she didn't realize she was holding as he cocked his head with a sardonic half smile that belied the rage boiling inside towards whoever had done this to her.

Walking back to the sink, he had to mentally force his fingers to relax around the glass as he deposited it into the basin. He clung to the side of the sink, leaning on straight arms with his head down, breathing deeply, willing himself to relax. He was no good to her angry. He'd just add to her fear. She needed him calm. She needed him level-headed. She needed him.

He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, for letting her see him like this. There is always drinking involved when someone reacts the way she did. What the hell did Kid do to her?

He grabbed a bucket, filled it with the pump and washed his face and mouth out repeatedly, trying to wash away the stench that could mean fear to her. He swore at himself while the water dripped off his face and into the basin. What the hell was he doing? He threw an angry look over his shoulder at the lone figure on the sofa. She was sitting bolt upright, her eyes focused on a point on the floor and not moving.

She looked so tiny, so lost. So beautiful. The water had cooled him momentarily, but as he turned and ambled back to the couch, the full force of his desire returned and threatened to take over his body. His head wanted to help her, defend her, protect her. His body wanted to touch her, lick her, possess her. He sat down hard between his previous seat and the middle cushion next to her, shocking her out of her reverie.

She looked at him with wide eyes. He stretched his arms up then rested them along the top of the sofa cushions and watched her get control over her reaction. She lowered her eyes and rested her hands together in her lap.

Lou noticed movement on his lap, and glanced up at it curiously. Blushing furiously, she quickly turned her head and eyes away from his burgeoning desire. To her chagrin, her own body responded in kind. Warmth from her core spread like wildfire all the way to her fingertips and toes. She could feel the answering moisture between her legs as she struggled with all her might to tamp her reaction down.

Closing her eyes tightly, she yelled at herself, 'Get a hold on yourself, girl!' A tiny voice inside irreverently responded, 'I know what I'd like to get a hold of...' Lou growled in warning to shut the little voice up, too late realizing she had made the noise out loud. She opened one eye and tried to sneak a peek at Jimmy. His eyebrow was raised and corners of his lips were curled up in a mocking half smile. His lap was moving more obviously. His length was straining against the long-john buttons that were holding him in with all their might, but Jimmy did nothing to hide it. She quickly looked down at her hands in her lap again, and let out a shaky breath.

With his hand that was next to her, Jimmy lightly touched her shoulder closest to him. She looked at him, red-faced. Her heavy shaking breaths warmed the skin on the back of his hand. He wanted those breaths on his face. Damnit, Jim, he yelled at himself, using Ambrose's abbreviation of his name, that's Kid's wife, not some common whore! he chided himself. She hasn't left yet, his tiny voice pointed out. He groaned and rolled his eyes. God damned tiny voice.

He gently stroked the back of her neck with a finger. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. God, Lou, stop encouraging me, his mind yelled. He pulled back his hand as if he had been burned.

Her eyes flew open, her face hot, her core even hotter. What was she doing? she chastised herself. What had she become? She knew better than this. She knew she had to leave. Why wasn't she moving?

Jimmy touched her shoulder again. If he had gotten that response from just a finger, he pondered. Hmmmm...

She looked at him again, and he crooked his finger at her, beckoning to her to come nearer. His eyes seemed to dance with mischief. Her stomach flipped. It was not a sight Lou thought she would see again. There was her Jimmy again. Her Jimmy. She liked the sound of that in her head. His eyes had shed his pain for the moment, and he was the light-hearted boy she fell in love with. She caught her breath. Love? When had she fallen in love with him? It had to have been before the kiss under the moonlight. Perhaps it was when he ran Teaspoon's velocipede into the pigsty, and came up laughing, coated in mud and pigs' wallow wanting to try again. Maybe it was when he shot the tennis ball out of the air. It could even have been as early as when they were watching the mare and her offspring cavorting around in the corral, when she asked Jimmy his thoughts.

She was intrigued. He still knew how to pique her interest.

Lou scooted closer to Jimmy, staring into his eyes. In one quick motion, he reached around her back and pulled her on top of him, so she was sitting astride his lap, facing him. She gasped in surprise.

He instantly felt her heat through her delicate bloomers and realized his plan to spark her anger, just to get a glimpse of the old Lou, might be sabotaged by his own body in the blink of an eye. Her eyes were wide with shock. He waited for her to respond, to hit him, slap him, storm off in a huff. He wanted to see some kind of power and emotion in her eyes besides fear and hesitancy.

Lou was incensed! How dare he grab her like that? Handle her so roughly, take such liberties? Hold her on top of his hardness like - like - she gulped- like she had never felt before. He was hard, and big, she discovered, as she wriggled, at first to get off of him. Her skirt was in the way, she told herself. Jimmy's arms are too strong, she reasoned, pointedly ignoring the near weightless caress of his hands on her waist. Her thin undergarment did nothing to prevent her from feeling his firmness against her needy core, and she fell deep into the need for the ultimate fulfillment that she knew only Jimmy could bring her.

After watching a fleeting flash of anger in her eyes, Jimmy realized she wasn't moving. Or rather she wasn't removing herself from his lap. She certainly was moving, though. She was moving her heat along his thick shaft, towards his body, then back to the end of his length. She was rocking from side to side, as if she was measuring it with herself. He ground his teeth together, trying to maintain some last semblance of sanity. He commanded his body not to move. His hips ignored him. He focused on her eyes, hoping she would see reason and come to her senses if she looked in his eyes. She was biting her lip and her lids were at half-mast, almost closed. He could only see the whites of her eyes. She wasn't going to be any help. God, she felt so damn good. His hands found purchase on the sofa cushions and he grabbed them for all he was worth, trying to keep himself from doing something he'd possibly regret like tearing off her bloomers and plunging into her raging heat.

The buttons on his long johns finally gave up the fight against his insistent maleness, and popped open, freeing him from their flimsy confines. He grabbed on to her waist in a vain attempt at some kind of control. He tried to push her back, half-heartedly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her. She moaned softly in his ear as she nibbled his earlobe. His grip tightened on her waist as his eyes closed. He was cracking. He rallied one last time for control, preparing to push her from him, bodily.

"Jimmy," she half moaned, half whispered into his ear, her voice husky, deep, needy and wanting, all at once. He crumbled. His hands reached under her skirt, found her bloomers and ripped them in twain. She chuckled in his ear, innocent and evil at the same time. It was like nothing he'd ever heard before, but he damn sure wanted to hear it again.

She pulled her hips back, and found his head, nestling it firmly at her opening. She opened her eyes and gazed into his. His eyes were dark with hunger, hers dark with desire. Their jagged breaths mingled and warmed them both. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling, and he held on to her hips with tight fingers to hold them steady. 'There she is,' he thought. 'There's my Lou.'

He blinked away what he decided was dust in his eye.  
He raised his hand to the back of her head and pulled her down to brush her lips with his. She parted her lips and delved into his mouth, both her hands holding his face.

Her hips gyrated around in a circular motion, causing his tip to move in her opening like a ball-and-socket joint. He shuddered under her exquisite torture, longing to plunge into her, but he let her maintain control. She pushed her hips hesitantly towards his, pushing his head against her heat more. He was a large man in so many ways, and she hadn't done this for a few years. Jimmy stared into her eyes, and smiled reassuringly at her. She pushed again, wanting him inside her, but she wasn't making much headway. Tears filled her eyes at her helplessness and uselessness.

Jimmy could feel her frustration. He pushed his fingers through her hair, whispered, "Shhhh," and pulled her into a deep kiss.

"I've been wanting for this for so long," he whispered. "You're doin' just fine, darlin'" he assured her.

He used one hand to delve under her skirts to find her special button and caress it. She gasped at the sudden sensation and gyrated with his motions on her sensitive spot. He scooted down on the couch so he was angled directly below her and she was positioned directly above his shaft. His fingers worked their magic and soon she was gasping and opening up more, dripping with moisture all over his hard thickness. He removed his hand and pushed her upright. With his hands on her hips, and with the help of gravity and her generous moisture, he entered her tightness. He inhaled through his teeth and his eyes closed at the sensation of finally being one with this, the only love of his life. The love that he had given up long ago for her own happiness, protection and future.

"God, Lou," he ground out, "you feel so damn good."

Lou's eyes misted over as she heard him and felt his girth rise up inside her. She rolled her eyes back with a moan, feeling the deliciousness of him. She pulled up, then pressed down further on his shaft. She wanted all of him, wanted him to fill her up physically as he already had mentally and emotionally. She moved up and further down again, just inches away from complete oneness.

How could she have been so blind? How could she have been so focused on doing what everyone expected of her instead of what was in her heart? Up and down again. He was in places no one else had ever touched. Deeper inside, she felt fuller than she ever had in her whole life. He didn't tell her 'No', he made it possible for her to make it happen. 'He is sitting here, staring up at me, with so much desire and pleasure,' she thought, 'without pressure, without expectations.' Tears welled up in her eyes again. He sat up and pulled her to him, unsure why the tears were coming this time. She pushed him back, shaking her head and smiling. She pushed her fingers through his hair and pulled him towards her for a deep kiss. He felt so damn good inside her, she thought. She wanted all of him. She had never really had this kind of control before, and the power was getting to her. She pushed him back against the couch again, raising herself up, almost all the way and let gravity take over, dropping herself hard on him. They both gasped at the same time, her from the pain of taking him all in so suddenly, him from the surprise of her actions and the feeling of being sheathed completely inside her, to the hilt.

She wasn't sure if she should move yet or not. Her tears of pain spilled over onto her cheeks and he sat up again. This time she let him take her into his arms and hold her. Her face was in the crook of his neck and she sobbed. He stroked her hair, her back, anything he could put his hand on, he stroked. He rubbed her back up and down as she gulped giant sobs of release. He sniffed, trying to hold back his own flood that was straining against years of Wild Bill. He held her tight, oblivious to the tears that were coursing over his cheeks and into her hair.

She wept. She mourned. Seven years of living as someone she was not. Seven years of life without Jimmy. Seven years of isolation and loneliness. Seven years without Jimmy. Seven years with no children, and a husband who would rather fight for a piece of land thousands of miles away rather than stay home and fight for a future with her. Seven damn years. And nothing to show for it but an empty marriage and seven years away from the man she didn't choose. The man who loved her as she was and is, and never tried to change her. The man that was letting her cry on his shoulder and who would end up with with much more than just tears on his bare chest if her runny nose was any indication. She sniffed. And he was loving her all the way through it. The man that had just let her run ramshackle all over his body and asked nothing in return but her happiness. She had found herself, finally, and in his arms. She knew she would never let him go. They needed each other to survive.

Jimmy held the back of her head with one hand, as her sobbing slowly subsided into gulps of air then into long shaky sighs. He took the hem of her skirt and gently started wiping her cheeks and nose. He chuckled a little at the tiny gesture, so simple, yet so intimate, and it filled him with such warmth. To care for her, to take care of her. It was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. His hand stopped as he realized what he just thought. It was her. It had always been her. She was the one that filled his being like no other. Ever. He had been a fool to let her get away the first time and they had both paid for it.

He was just Jimmy now. All he'd ever wanted was to just be Jimmy. He would be her Jimmy. Nothing else to anyone else. He would take her last name and be James Butler McCloud, if she wanted. He would shave all the facial hair if she wanted. He would be her hero, just as she was now his.

He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her tight against him. He would never let her go again.

Jimmy pulled her closer, moving her around his shaft that had been forgotten for the moment. At least by Lou. For Jimmy, every sob, every sniff, every breath, every tiny movement reminded him of their joining. He found it difficult to not move in response to her every motion. He didn't want to take control, he wanted her to do anything and everything she wanted to.

She kissed his neck again. Her tongue darted out and licked where her lips had been. He breathed in sharply, and raised his chin to allow her better access. Her lips returned to the spot she kissed, and she started sucking as her hips started rotating around on him. She bit him gently, stopped and looked up at him. His eyes were closed and he was biting his lower lip. He felt her gaze on him and opened his eyes to look at her. God, she was beautiful.

She pulled the hem of her skirt up and used it to wipe his face, as he had hers.

Before either of them could speak, he thrust his hips up slowly and pulled back. She closed her eyes as he delved back into her heated depths. She opened her eyes and sat up, spreading her knees apart more. Holding his face, she gazed into his eyes as she started gyrating around, pulling back then pushing forward to reinsert his length all the way. Back and forth, out and in, the sparks in her eyes kindled a fire they both knew would consume them both in pleasure and fulfillment. His hands were on her hips, guiding and helping her find her rhythm. He bit his lip again as she smiled a wolfish smile and leaned over to bite and suck on his neck again. She sucked hard. She wanted to mark her man. Her sucking and possessiveness increased her excitement and her hips moved faster and stronger. She wrapped her arms around his head and buried her face in his neck as she started breathing harder with each thrust.

Jimmy could hear her heavy breaths in his ear, her small moans and guttural whispers of desire. He knew he couldn't last much longer with her noises shredding the remnants of his self control with every breath, gasp, and groan. He found her special button again, and stroked it with his thumb. With a loud gasp, she arched and threw her head back, holding on to his shoulders.

She was riding him hard now, up and down. Watching her, he felt a twinge of jealousy for her mount, Lightning. It's obvious now why that horse was so loyal. Damn, she rides good, he thought idly. His hips responded in kind to her fevered desires and he thrust up as she came down, over and over. Her nails dug into his shoulders and her eyes rolled back as she felt stars explode from her center and travel throughout her limbs. Jimmy felt her tighten as if she were trying to suck the essence from his very soul, and he gladly gave it up, as he launched off the cliff of sanity into the warm oceans of oblivion, bellowing her name as he fell.

He opened his eyes and found himself holding her trembling body against his tightly. She looked at him through her eyelashes. He breathed out a laugh. She giggled and shook her head, her face against his neck. She twined her arms under his, grasping onto his shoulders from behind with her hands. She pulled him even closer. He brushed her sweat drenched hair off her face, and kissed her forehead. He tilted his head lower and kissed the bridge of her nose. She closed her eyes and leaned her face up to his. Their lips met in a tender caress.

"Lou," Jimmy murmured lovingly, almost in astonishment.

Lou mumbled, "I never thought I'd feel you like this."

She wiggled her bottom, jiggling his semi-firm manhood that was still lodged inside her.

Jimmy agreed with a lazy nod and a chortle, stroking her face gently.

"You know this means you're mine, right?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her. They both chuckled.

"Just as you are mine," she agreed with a nod and a smile.

* * *

Myrtle looked at the strange horse on her hitching post by the stables. It seemed vaguely familiar. Someone from town, perhaps? It looked like the mount of the sweet young lady from the general store, now that she thought about it. Lou, was it? Louise? She was so very sweet. And young. To be widowed at such a tender age was never an easy thing. She wondered how long the young lady had been here.

Oh, that Hickok was still here! She knew he would be trouble the day she took him in when he was so drunk he could hardly stand. But he reminded her so much of her own late husband. Lost, alone, and without a friend. She knew she had to care for the young man, like she hoped her late husband might have been cared for in his younger days when he was lost and alone. She wondered if he was being a gentleman to her visitor or his usual prickly self.

Then she heard him roar the young lady's name.

She blushed in realization of what she almost interrupted.

This must have been the Lou from his dreams that kept waking him and had him so deep in his cups, he couldn't see.

She stayed in the stables, slowly brushing down her horse. She knew that boy's time would now be spent elsewhere.

She was relieved. She couldn't help his dreams, but she'd managed to find the girl in them and bring them together again. Where they both belonged.

* * *

Please review.

I would love to see what you thought of this and if I should keep writing.

Thank you so very much for reading my first published fan fiction piece ever.

There may be more coming.

Thank you, Myrtle, for your time and amazing coaching through this whole thing. You made all the difference in the world!

G+, YOU ROCK!

Hortense, this was written long before any picture sharing, in all its glory, occurred. )

Thank you for reading my humble offering.


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